


I am Nobody

by bookfangeek



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dark, Diary/Journal, Gen, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8319325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookfangeek/pseuds/bookfangeek
Summary: Avery Rodriguez would have been happy just making his way through life WITHOUT being constantly in trouble. Just when he thinks he has an out from his awful life, his world does a 180 and he finds himself in an even worse mess than when he started.Future Technologies promised to give him powers to fight back against his problems, but they didn't tell him the price he would have to pay to get them.





	1. Old Wounds

<Warning, contains violence and self harm!>

2.4.14

How did all of those famous authors start their journals? Because I have no idea how to begin writing this. Um … hi? My name is Avery Rodriguez, I’m 15 years old, and I go to Oshkeen South High School. I like drawing, writing, and I play a few instruments. All right. I guess those are the basics. So I should probably explain why I have to keep a journal now. It’s my parents’ fault, really. They’re making me.  They keep saying something about it “helping with my depression” or something like that, but the real reason is because I complain too much. They’re both sick of it, I can tell. I guess they want me to write the stuff that happens to me at school in here instead of complaining to them. So I may as well, since I’m pretty sure my mom is standing outside the door, making sure I’m writing.

The day started off as usual. I was reading my new book, carefully ignoring everything that was happening around me, when someone decided my day wasn’t going terrible enough.

“ _ Hey, Rodriguez! _ ” Russell's voice shattered my bubble of silence.

I buried my face in the book, doing my best to ignore him, but Russell wasn’t satisfied.

“Got a razor for me, Rodriguez? I’m feeling super emo right now.” He whimpered, exaggerated sadness plastered all over his face.

I rolled my eyes but didn’t respond, much to Russell’s annoyance.

“ _ Hey! Pussy!” _ He slammed my book down onto my desk, and, doing my best to keep my nerves about me, I locked my eyes on his.

“Hey, douche.” I kept my voice level and monotone.  _ Please just leave me alone.  _ I pleaded silently.

Russell, a huge grin plastered on his face, staggered backwards and put his hand on his mouth. “Oooo, that’s some harsh language from you, Rodriguez. You must be feeling extra emo today.”

I rolled my eyes, any fear I had dissolved into annoyance. “I am not emo, Russell. Just drop that line of ‘teasing.’” Unconsciously, I tugged my sleeves down over my wrists.

Russell let out a barking laugh. “Yeah, right! You wrote the  _ book  _ on emo!” He scoffed.

“You don’t say.” I muttered as I picked my book from my desk.

My first big mistake.

Russell’s eyes widened and his cheeks colored, but I only had about three seconds to admire this development before he grabbed my shirt and hauled me out of my desk. I gasped for air as he pulled me in. His eyes burned with rage.

“ _ Look  _ at me when I talk to you!” He screeched.

I grabbed Russell’s wrists and struggled to pull them off. Spots begin to swim in my eyes as I struggled for breath.

Just then, the sound of the bell filled the hallways.

Russell let out a small huff of annoyance as his eyes flicked to the door. I could see him pondering whether beating me up was worth the expulsion. After an uncomfortably long time he let out a breath.

“Damn.” He muttered as his grip loosened on my shirt. “I was really looking forward to giving you the what for.” He planted his hand firmly in the center of my chest and shoved me back into my desk. The loud screech of metal on linoleum filled the classroom as my desk shifted a foot backwards from the force. Russell curled his lip into a sneer then swaggered back to his desk.

I gently scooted my desk back into place and picked up my book. I lifted it up and feigned reading but kept my eyes focused on Russell, worry churning in my stomach.

\--

Once the school bell rang, the hallways cleared out within minutes, with me only a few seconds behind the bulk of the crowd. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed out the doors. I turned a corner onto one of the side-streets surrounding the school and began my daily walk home.

I’d only gotten about a block when Russell stepped out from an alley and into my path.

“Well, well, well,” he sneered, “look who we have here.”

I took a step back, my chest burning with fear.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook from English, Rodriguez.” He snarled. “I’m going to make you show  _ some  _ emotion.”

I took a deep breath and steadied my stance before looking Russell in the eyes. “Do your worst.”

A grin slowly worked its way onto Russell’s face. He took a step toward me and, with one swift motion socked me in the jaw.

Pain raced from where he’d hit me into my eye and my vision wavered. I clasped my cheek, but kept my face steady, devoid of all emotion.

I would not give Russell what he wanted.

Russell, obviously frustrated, kicked me in the ribs, forcing all of the breath from my lungs.

After that kick, it all became a blur. First pain shot through my leg, then my stomach, then my head, then my wrist. I collapsed onto my knees, head down, using all of my effort to not pass out or throw up.

“You got it all out yet?” I whispered as loud as my injured ribs would allow.

After a moment of silence, he kicked me upside the head. I fell onto my back as the taste of blood filled my mouth.

The sound of sneakers on concrete told me that he was leaving. Once the sneakers faded away, I sat up, gasping with pain as I did so. With a hand covered in blood, I pushed my hair out of my eyes, and allowed the tears that had been threatening to overflow to stream down my face.

\--

I staggered the rest of the way home and had to lean on the door handle for support as I limped inside.

“How was school, hun?” My mother asked, not even taking her eyes out of her book.

“Bad.” I collapsed onto the couch, relief flooded through me as the pain lessened.

Confused, Mom looked up from her book. She let out a terrified gasp when she saw me. “Oh my god! What happened?”

“Russell beat me up again,” I dismissed her, “it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?  _ No big deal?”  _ My mom screamed, and my dad ran in.

“What’s going on?” He asked. Panic wild in his eyes.

My mother stood up and pointed at me. “Some boy beat Avery up!”

“No, no, really I’m fine!” I protested, my voice thin. “I-”

My dad broke into a grin. “Yeah, of course he’s fine! He’s  _ my  _ boy, nothing’ll keep him down for long!”

“Right, Dad,” I muttered. “Of course.”

My mother looked from me to my dad and back again. “Are you sure you’re all right, Avery?” She asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I sighed, “I just… wish Russell would leave me alone.”

My parents exchanged a look, I caught a slight nod from my father before he turned back to me.

“Avery, have you ever considered keeping a journal?” He asked.

“I… no?” I replied, wondering where the jump between getting beat up and writing a journal came from.

“Well, you should!” My dad smiled. “I hear journals are really therapeutic for people in situations like yours.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea!” My mom started racing up the stairs. “I have an unused one around here somewhere!”

“Why would I write in a journal?” I held up my hands in a “stop” gesture.

My dad looked up at the ceiling in thought. “Well, you can pretend to be one of those famous book characters, like Frankenstein!”

“Frankenstein didn’t write any journals.” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, one of the characters in that book did, it’s been a while.” My dad trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. He leaned forward, his eyes bright. “But maybe your life’ll start to become more interesting! Hm? Just like one of those books that you like so much?”

My mom strode into the room. “I found the journal!” She held the book out to me. “Here you go, sweetie!”

I studied the book warily. It looked like a regular school notebook. It was bound with cheap cloth and had a dappled, black and white pattern on it. However, in the upper middle of the cover laid a large logo for Future Technologies.

“Um… thanks.” I reached out uncertainly and grabbed the book.

Not even a second later, my mom practically shoved me up the stairs. “Go on! Go write in your book!”

“Yes, son!” My dad echoed. “Go have fun!”

I stood on the bottom step of the staircase. I looked at my parents’ excited faces, then, with a sigh, I trudged up the stairs.

And so, that’s why I’m here now. Hopefully, my parents will have forgotten all about this by tomorrow, but… it  _ is  _ nice writing in here, while it’s still around.

 

2.5.14

Well, one thing’s for certain: they didn’t forget. Goddamn, it’d be easier trying to convince a serial killer not to murder than to try to convince my parents that I don’t need to write in a journal! Apparently they’re going to set aside time for me to write every day now. So,  _ great.  _ Now I have to relive every single day of my life, just what I need.  _ Especially  _ after a day like today.

I always eat lunch alone. That’s one of the many disadvantages to going to a school where everyone hates you. Is it lonely? Sure, but I always tell myself that I could have it worse. But, I guess the sayings are true: There’s safety in numbers.

I first noticed something was wrong when everyone sitting around me started staring and laughing at me. The whispers started out quiet but got gradually louder. But I didn’t have time to analyze what it meant before I felt a hot breath in my ear.

“Guess who-oo.” A voice sung, just inches away from me.

I felt a sting of cold as a knife pressed against my cheek.

“Warren.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “Please. Just leave. Russell isn’t going to give you the money he promised you for this.”

Warren cackled. “Oh, you think Russell put me up to this? That’s hilarious.” He leaned in closer. “I’m doing this for me.”

He pressed the flat side of his knife into my cheek, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “I just want to hear you scream.”

I grabbed his arm and tried to push it away. “Get away from me!”

I felt a sharp sting on my cheek as Warren flicked his wrist. I could feel something trickling down my face.

“Oops.” Warren smirked.

I reached for the knife and jerked the blade as far away from my face as I could get it.

Warren instantly sliced my hand and dug the blade back into the cut on my cheek. I cried out in pain.

“You shouldn’t struggle,” Warren hissed, “it’ll only make things worse for you.”

_ He’s going to kill me. _ My brain repeated over and over as I frantically scanned the lunchroom for a teacher, but no one was even paying attention to the room, instead focused on their lunches and their coworkers. Defeated, I took a deep breath, and forced myself to do the opposite of what Warren wanted. I fixed my eyes on a motivational poster across the room and slowed my breathing.

“What’s wrong, pussy? Too scared to speak?” Warren mocked.

When I didn’t reply he let out a low growl. “Fine then.” His blade traced a path from my cheek to my neck. “I’ll just let my knife slip ‘accidentally.’”

My breath caught in my throat. He didn’t care. He was really going to kill me. A tear slowly worked its way into my vision, but I didn’t move.

After a long time, I felt the knife slip from my neck.

“You’re not going to do  _ shit _ ? You’re kidding me, right?” Warren yelled. He removed his other hand from my shoulder and I collapsed onto the floor, my body limp with relief.

Warren towered over me, his eyes burned. “I’ll crack you someday, Rodriguez. Just you wait.”

Warren stalked away, leaving me gasping for breath, wondering what just happened.

It’s getting worse and worse. I don’t know why I’m the target to their bullying, I just know that they hate me for whatever reason. I’m totally scared, totally alone, writing in some journal like a madman from a book. 

Today, I was tempted. I reached for the drawer, but I refused to allow myself to give in. I don’t do that anymore. I have more than enough scars to remind me of the past. 

I just… I just wish that, somehow, I could fight back. Against both Warren and Russell, and myself.

 

2.8.14

So, this morning was… interesting. When I came downstairs today my parents were both waiting for me in the living room. I thought for sure I was about to get a lecture for that detention I got for skipping english, or maybe the dozens of missing homework assignments I have, but what they really had in mind was completely unexpected.

“Avery.” My mother chided.

I froze and turned around and started to slowly make my way back up the stairs.

“Come, take a seat.” My dad beckoned.

Terrified, I edged my way over to a chair and sat on the very edge, ready to bolt at any time. “What do you want?”

My parents exchanged a look, and my mom cleared her throat loudly. “Avery. Your father and I have been talking, and we both agree that this bullying is getting completely out of hand!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

My dad turned his worried eyes to me. “Don’t deny it, Avery. Where did that cut on your cheek come from?”

My hand flew to the scab where Warren had cut my face. “Um… I…”

My mom raised her hand. “Don’t worry, we’ve informed the principal of your school, and he says that he’ll talk to the bullies for you.”

_ Oh god no.  _ My eyes widened.  _ It’s over for me. _

“But, in-school solutions aside,” my dad’s voice broke through my thoughts. “ We’ve decided to let you in on a little secret.”

I looked up, mostly expecting something lame, but there was still a small spark of excitement. “… Secret?”

My dad smiled. “You know where your mother and I work?”

There goes the last bit of interest I had. “Future Technologies, right?”

“That’s right!” My dad nodded. “You know the name. But you don’t know what we do, do you?”

“Something with future technology.” I answered in a monotone, evicting a snort of amusement from my mom.

My dad smiled weakly. “Yes, that’s true.” He conceded. “But… what they’re really researching right now is… genetic mutations.”

“Genetic mutations.” I raised an eyebrow.

My dad pointed finger guns at me. “You betcha!”

“This concerns me… how?” I asked.

My mom decided to chime in, “Avery, Future Technologies is working to make real-life superheroes! And they’ve agreed to let you test out one of their superpower serums!”

I sat, stunned, for a few seconds. “Uh… huh.” I managed to get out. “Superpowers. You sound absolutely sane right now.”

My mom grinned and tapped the side of her nose. “Oh, creating superpowers is more possible than you think!”

“Just think, Avery! With the serum, you’ll be able to fight against the bullies!” He turned his eyes on me. “Isn’t that all you want?”

I looked down at the floor, unable to meet my dad’s eyes.

“Will you do it, Avery?” My mom prodded.

“I… I’ll think about it.” I said.

My mom enveloped me in a hug. “Oh, wonderful!”

My dad soon joined in. “Attaboy, Avery! Helping to progress the technology of the future!”

They were both so happy about it, but I can’t force myself to feel the same way. This all feels like some enormous joke, but I’ve let the idea of getting superpowers sink in for a while now and I’ve been getting more and more excited about the concept as the day goes on. Maybe I will just accept their proposition. We’ll see.

 

2.9.14

Today… I can’t even begin to describe today. I have never felt more terrified and physically ill than at that stupid laboratory. It’s… it’s just… that place is a place of nightmares.

I noticed something was wrong when my parents parked the car outside of a large, run-down warehouse. There were no signs on it. The paint, what little of it there was, was peeling; the walls were stained and I could see certain parts of the wall rotting through. This place looked like it had been abandoned for decades. I opened my mouth to ask where the real building was, when my dad’s words left an uncomfortable pit in my stomach.

“Here we are, Avery! Future Technologies!”

“You’re in for a real treat!” My mom’s smile crossed her entire face. “Nobody is allowed in unless they work here! You’ll be one of the few outsiders who have seen it!”

“This… is the building?” I asked, horrified. “It’s a dump!”

“Oh, just the outside!” My mother assured me. “The inside is very nice!”

I let out a grunt of disbelief as my dad wandered over to the entrance and pulled the door open.

“You first.” He said.

“Um…” I took a tentative step toward the door. “Okay?” The instant I walked into the building, a small, college-age woman was invading my personal bubble.

“Hi! You must be Avery!” She bounced up and down in place, a broad grin plastered on her face. “I’m Kamilla! I’ve been asked to give you a tour!” She extended her hand, and looked up at me expectantly.

I stared down at the hand, unsure of what to do, before I clasped her hand. Once we’d let go, my father walked into the room.

“Hello, Kamilla.” He smiled.

“Hi, Mr. Rodriguez!” Kamilla bounded over to him. “It’s so nice to finally meet your son!”

My mom grabbed my head in a big bear hug. “Isn’t he precious?”

“Mom!” I felt blood rush to my cheeks as I frantically pushed her arms off. “Why do you  _ only  _ say stuff like that in public!”

“But it’s true!” She said.

Kamilla laughed, but I noticed a twinge of sadness in her smile, and the pit in my stomach grew bigger.

“Why don’t we get started on our tour?” Kamilla suggested.

“That’s a good idea!” My dad smiled.

“Come on then!” Kamilla turned and started heading down the hall. “I’ll take you to the labs first!”

The tour started out normal enough. Kamilla led me and my family down to a row of big rooms. They were all a square shape, and I noticed they were all on wheels. In each of the windows I could see tables with pieces of metal and beakers of liquid scattered over the countertops. Scientists were bustling around, mixing materials and welding metals.

“These are the labs!” Kamilla chirped. “It’s where we mix chemicals and serums and the like!” She turned and pointed to the rooms on the other side of the hallway. “And those are the forages! It’s where we create different pieces of technology! Right now we’re working on a microchip that can send signals throughout the brain to relay messages!”

I perked up hearing that. “Kind of like those instant-messaging chips that everyone says will exist in the future.” I noted.

“Exactly!” Kamilla clapped. “Inventions like that are why we’re called Future Technologies!”

I turned to my parents, curiously. “So… what part of this do you guys work on?”

“Actually, everyone who works here has to know how to do engineering, medical procedures, and biochemistry, so we do a little of everything.” My mom explained.

I let out a grunt of interest, then frowned. I wasn’t sure if it was just me, but it felt like the walls had started to become more run-down. Many of the labs had unidentified liquids on the outside, and suddenly, the windows of the rooms were covered up, sometimes by stained, ripped, and burnt sheets, other times by a cheery store bought curtain. One pastel flower pattern in particular juxtaposed itself with the almost completely brown walls, walls I swear had been white just a few rooms back. It was about that time when I noticed the smell. It was faint at first, but as we kept marching it grew stronger and stronger, soon, no matter whether I inhaled from my mouth or nose, I could  _ taste  _ the metallic, sulfury smell.

I put my hand over my nose and mouth, and Kamilla looked over apologetically.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. This area’s never been the most rosy-smelling.” Her formerly enthusiastic voice had been reduced to a gravely murmur.

The walls began to close in, the hallway grew darker and darker until, suddenly, it opened up into an enormous room with row after row of square shaped rooms, all on wheels and all labeled with large numbers. They were about eight feet in length and height and packed side-by-side. The doors were a heavy metal with a digital keypad attached by the handle. There were large windows toward the top of the door, all covered with vertical bars. They kind of looked like…

“What… are these?” I asked.

My dad fidgeted with his collar and kept staring straight ahead. “Hey, u-um… maybe we should go another way.”

“No, Frank, this is fine.” My mother insisted.

We proceeded down the seemingly endless row of cells. At the tenth cell, the sound of someone sobbing filtered down the hall. I stared at the cell, worried. My dad placed a hand on my shoulder and pulled me forward. Soon, more crying emitted from another cell. At another cell, I could hear small whimpers and squeaks. At one point, I don’t know where it was coming from, but the sound of someone screaming filled the entire warehouse. My dad’s hand, still on my shoulder, was becoming increasingly clammy, the sweat had completely soaked through my shirt.

A loud bang from a cell, cell 031, made our group jump. I whipped around to see a teenage girl clinging to the bars of the cell. She extended one arm, shifting and pulsating with dozens of large, orange and green bubbles. I watched in horror as I saw the bubbles erupt from her chest and face.

“Help… me…” She gasped.

I couldn’t move. I’d never seen anything like it, in real life at least. I stared, transfixed, on the cell until my father put his arm around my shoulder again and led me on.

“What happened to her?” I whispered, staring down at my feet.

“Sadly… a failed experiment.” My dad said.

“Does that… happen a lot?” I felt tears welling in my eyes.

My mother cleared her throat. “Not as often as it used to.”

“She looked younger than me.” I said, still not tearing my eyes off of the floor.

Kamilla forced herself to smile. “One of the few minors we have, I assure you. Most people here are over 25.”

“Do you keep all of your test subjects in a cell?” I demanded, finally bringing up the courage to turn and glare into Kamilla’s face.

“Only until we’re done with them.”

Horror flooded through me. “Done with them?”

At that moment, I felt my feet give out from under me as I slipped. I fell with a small splash into a pile of foul smelling liquid. I brought one hand out from under me and stared in horror at the unmistakingly red substance. I had fallen into a pile of blood. I traced the puddle up and into a cell, where it was oozing from the doorframe.

“Oh my god.” I stared in horror. “ _ Oh my god!” _

“Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay honey, you’re safe!” My mother hugged me and did her best to help me to my feet.

“But- but  _ they  _ aren’t! A-are they like that- that girl?  _ Expendable?  _ Is  _ everyone  _ here expendable?! Oh god,  _ oh god.”  _ I bent over and pressed my hands against my forehead. I felt my breathing speed up and bile rise in my throat.

“No! No, Avery… we…  _ do  _ care! I’m sure the doctors will help them soon!’ My dad assured me.

I looked at my dad, my eyes hollow. Did he really think I was that stupid? “But that won’t be good enough.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as we continued out of the cells. I flinched at every cry, scream, and plea. I felt myself drawing more and more into my own little world, when Kamilla’s voice shattered the small serenity that I had created.

“Um… well… over here are the bathrooms. We can go in one and get you cleaned up, how ‘bout that?”

“Fine.” I whispered.

My parents led me into one of the bathrooms. They wiped the blood off my skin, but were unable to scrub the blood off of my clothes. While they cleaned me up, I stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was a wreck, tangled and knotted from sleep and worry. Dark circles surrounded my eyes, which were wild with fear and glistened with unshed tears. I gripped one of my wrists, and felt the bumps of the long scars tracing horizontally across it. Suddenly I felt every single one of those scars as if they were brand new. I felt all of the pain, horror, anger, and distrust that I saw reflected in the mirror.

When I came out of the bathroom, Kamilla was rocking back and forth, wringing her hands with worry plastered all over her face. My parents walked over to her and after a considerable amount of whispering, Kamilla finally looked up at me.

“I don’t really think there’s much left I can show you, Avery. So, ah, your mother and father are going to take it from here.”

“Right!” My mom clapped her hands. “We need to introduce you to April!”

“April?” I asked.

“The CEO.” My dad explained. “She’ll give you more information about being a test subject here.”

All of the blood in my veins turned to ice. “What?”

“Remember? That’s why we’re here.” My mother prompted.

“Oh… right.” I whispered. “I was going… I was going to be a test subject.”

My parents headed off down the hall, and I followed in a stunned silence. The hallway became cleaner the further away from the test subjects we got, until the walls were almost white enough to shine.

At the end of the hall stood an elaborate, wooden door, which my dad opened. He gestured for me and my mother to go through the door, shutting it after him once we were through.

The room was a pretty average size for an office. Everything was meticulously organized and clean. At a large wooden desk sat a woman, who, I’d have to guess was about forty. She was working at her computer, just barely glancing up when my parents and I walked in.

“Ah, Mr Rodriguez. Ms Welsh. Is this the kid?” She asked, disinterested.

“This is our son, Avery.” My dad placed a firm hand on my shoulder and I stiffened.

“Avery.” April repeated. I could feel her eyes scanning every single visible area of my body.

“Um…” My voice cracked. “Hi?”

April went back to working. “I could see him fitting in well, yes.”

“He says he’s interested.” My mother informed her.

“Well, yes, I did.” I said. “But-”

“Perfect.” Somehow, even though she was muttering, her voice cut through mine like a knife. “Send him in tomorrow, but give me the package tonight for a psych evaluation.”

“The package?” I asked.

“We certainly will.” My mother said. She then nudged me toward the door. “Come on Avery. We need to get you home.”

On my way out the door, I glanced back at April, who looked me in the eyes for less than a second before going back to work.

Package. She said bring a package? But what was it? Oh my god. They’re going to lock me in one of those cells. They’re going to experiment on me. Oh my god. All those sobbing people. All the screams. All the… the blood. And the girl. The girl, oh my god the girl. I’m going to die. They’re going to kill me. I, I can’t believe that my own  _ parents  _ would do this to me. Why would they make their  _ only son  _ be a  _ test subject  _ for them. Oh my god. They had a hand in  _ all  _ of this. They said they do a little of everything. Meaning that one of them might have… might have done… whatever the  _ hell  _ happened to that girl,  _ they _ might have done that to her. And now. Now they’re going to do it to  _ me. _

__ I told myself- I told myself that I’d never do this again. I vowed that I wouldn’t, but I can’t- I can’t handle this. I need a distraction. I need  _ something.  _ An old vice. It’s all I can think of.

Goddammit. Goddammit.

_ Goddammit! _


	2. Chapter 2: Betrayal

2.10.14

I hate my parents. I hate my parents.  _ I hate my goddamn parents! _

I thought everything was going to be fine. I thought they weren’t going to sell me off to some Maximum Ride-esque facility to live out the rest of my days. But, apparently, I was wrong.

I walked down the stairs this morning cradling my arm to my chest. When I reached the landing of the stairwell, I could see my dad watching TV.

“Dad…?” I said.

He looked up and smiled, raising his cup of coffee to me. “Good morning, Avery.”

“Dad, I don’t-” My voice broke, after a deep breath, I tried again. “I changed my mind about-”

“About being a test subject.” Sorrow flooded into my dad’s face.

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as I nodded.

“I know, Avery. I thought you would.” My dad’s voice grew gentle. “And I did too.”

“You won’t let them-” I faltered. “You won’t let them experiment on me, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Thank you.” Reassured, I settled down on the couch and stared blankly at the news show on TV. After a good ten minutes, I took a shaky breath.

“Dad, I…” I pulled my legs up to my chest. “I did it again last night.”

My dad leapt up from his recliner. “Oh my god,  _ Avery!” _

He reached out and grabbed my hands, I flinched away.

My dad looked at me sadly. “Let me look.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I held out my hands yet again. My dad gently took my hands and rotated them until the underside of my arms faced upwards.

Among dozens of thin, white scars laid fresh scabs. I’d done a terrible job of cleaning the blood away, my hands had been shaking far too much to clean myself up.

I looked up at my dad and saw the disappointment in his eyes. “I thought you said you wouldn’t do this anymore.”

“I didn’t want to.” I glared back at him. “Your stupid  _ tour  _ drove me to it.”

The disappointment was immediately replaced with shame. “Oh, Avery.” My father breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

“You should be.”

My dad stood up and grabbed the first aid kit from on top of the TV stand. “At least let me bandage them up.”

I stuck out my arm. “If you must.”

My dad cleaned the blood off my arms, going back over the scabs with an alcohol swab, then, with the precision of a surgical doctor, bandaged my arm.

“There,” he said as he fastened the bandage together. “They won’t get infected now, at least.”

“Thanks.” I said as I rolled my sleeves over the bandages, hiding them from sight.

“You could just give me the razor, Avery.” My dad said. “Getting over this habit would be so much easier if you just told me where it-”

“No,” I said.

My dad looked at the floor, defeated. “I just… don’t want to lose you.”

I let out a cold laugh. “It didn’t seem like it yesterday.”

“I know! I know. I was… so  _ stupid  _ to think I would let you be subjected to that kind of… cruelty. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Distress crept into my dad’s voice. “When your mother gets down here we can tell her you don’t want to go.”

I allowed a spark of hope to ignite in my chest. “You promise you won’t let them take me?”

My dad nodded. “I promise.”

Ha.

We waited in the living room for what felt like an eternity. Finally, when my mom walked in the door, my dad stood up. “Lucrezia, we need to talk.”

My mom looked almost bored. “About what?”

“About our son.”

My mom looked over at me, her eyes drinking up every detail. “What about him?”

“You can’t seriously think we’re going to let April do whatever the hell she wants with him, do you?”

“Is that not what Avery wants?” My mom glanced over at me.

“No, it’s not!” My dad drew my mom’s attention back to him. She studied his expression before turning back toward me.

“Is that true?”

“Yes, it is!” My dad said.

“I was asking him!” My mom gestured at me.

Taken by surprise, I wasn’t sure what to say. “Y- yes, it’s true.” I agreed.

There was silence for a good thirty seconds, before my mom let out a small smile.

“Okay.” She walked toward the door. “Then let’s drive up to Future Tech and let April know you’re no longer interested.”

“You want me to go back?” I was taken aback.

“It’s always better to tell people you’re backing out of something in person.” She said.

My father’s eyes narrowed. “I’m coming with you.”

A small flash of contempt crossed my mother’s face. “All right,” she said. “Let’s hit the road.”

The drive back up to Future Tech was tense. My father attempted to crack a few jokes, but each time he was met with stony silence. I twiddled my thumbs, doing my best to keep myself from puking up what little I had in my stomach, and my mom, who was driving the car, kept her eyes locked on the road in front of her. When we finally pulled into the Future Tech parking lot, I could see her relax, whereas my nerves tripled in size.

We climbed out of the car and my mom led us into the building and through the pathway we took yesterday, though I noticed that she carefully avoided the room where the test subjects were kept. Eventually, we found ourselves standing in front of April’s office.

“This is it.” My mom said and pushed the door open, allowing me and my father inside.

The room looked exactly the same as it did yesterday, but my attention was immediately drawn to the two people standing on either side of April.

The man on her left looked like an average bodyguard, so aside from how intimidating he was, there was nothing special about him. What caught my attention was the thin woman to his left with skin that was so pale and gray, she looked more like a corpse than a living person. She wore a red cape overtop of an almost steampunk looking outfit. Her eyes were a dull shade of purple that would have been impossible for any human to have, and her cheeks bore scars that protruded away from her mouth, curving into the sides of her head. They were held together by stitches, but they looked like they’d been there so long, the skin appeared fused to the thread.

“Kacy, Romano, good to see you.” My mom greeted them with the first genuine smile I’d seen from her all day.

“Pleasure.” The scarred woman, Kacy, I assume, purred.

“Is he ready?” April fixed her gaze on me.

I looked over at my mom, pleading with my eyes. I didn’t want to tell this freak show exactly what was on my mind, but when my mom replied, I felt my heart drop to my shoes.

“He’s ready.”

Instantly, Kacy lashed out and grabbed my arm. She traced a path up the side of my face, cackling. “Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you!”

My chest contracted, I couldn’t breathe, I felt my stomach churn as it readied itself to empty its contents onto the floor.

_ She lied to me. _

“Now hold on a second!” My dad started.

“Frank,” April’s voice was totally calm. “If you so much as try to fight this you will suffer the same fate as your son.”

My dad shut his mouth with a small squeak.

April turned her emotionless eyes to her bodyguards. “Take him away.”

“ _ No. _ ” I choked out.

Romano grabbed my other arm, his rough hand strong enough to cut of my blood circulation. The pair began to haul me to the exit.

“No!  _ No! _ ” I screamed.

I was facing in toward the office, I could see my parents. My mom stood there, although her hands were fidgeting, she had a half smile on her face. My dad had a look of shock on his.

We locked eyes.

“Dad!” I sobbed. “You promised!”

My dad looked away, shame darkening his eyes.

Hot tears flowed unbarred down my face now. “ _ You promised!”  _ I shrieked as the door to the office closed, like the lens of a camera, sealing a picture of the scene into my mind.

\--

Kacy and Romano dragged me into a small, tiled room, Romano stood outside the door and locked me and Kacy inside.

The room had greenish-gray lockers running up and down the walls and a small bench in the center of it all. It couldn’t have fit more than two people inside of it. The room was dingy, and I could spy a puddle of what appeared to be dried blood off in one of the corners.

“Take off your clothes.” Kacy commanded.

“W- can I get some privacy?” I asked

“Take off your clothes!” Kacy repeated.

Cautiously, I unbuttoned my flannel and removed it. I took off my shoes, socks, and pants. I reached for my underwear, but when I touched the band, I looked up at Kacy.

“Those can stay on.” She assured me. She then sauntered over to one of the lockers, it opened with a loud clang and she threw a shiny piece of fabric at me.

I held it out at arm’s length, it appeared to be a jumpsuit made of a strange swimsuit material. It had a white band in the middle of the chest with the number 214 emblazoned on it.

“I’m pretty sure this is too small for me.” I said, flashing pathetic eyes at her to try to sway her to my side.

“You’d be surprised who those fit on.” I stared at her for a few more seconds, but Kacy was undeterred, and eventually I caved. As I dressed, Kacy went on. “They’re made to stretch, they have to be able to fit some… unexpected mutations. You’d be  _ amazed  _ the sort of stuff I’ve seen! Of course, most of those test subjects die upon mutation, but at least their corpses are an advancement of science!” She cackled, her eyes sparkled as she pictured the brutal murders I had to assume she committed.

When I pulled my arm through the last sleeve, she gave me a pair of gray rubber boots.

“Oh, Avery, I have so many great plans for you!” Her scarred mouth curved into a broad smile. “You’re going to me my work of art!”

“What are you going to do to me?” I felt my heart leap to my throat.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Kacy sang. “No questions! Only heartfelt compliments!”

Kacy then gripped my arm and led me out the door, where Romano helped drag me along into the rows of cells. At this point, I felt numb. I was shaking, wracked with chills, my body was covered in a cold sweat, but they continued like they didn’t notice any of it.

I watched as the numbers of the cells kept counting down, starting at 250. As we neared 220 I realized what the numbers meant. What the number on my jumpsuit meant. I mentally counted down the cells like their numbers were the seconds I had left to live..

220… 219… 218… 216… 215.. 214.

Kacy let go of my arm to fiddle with the number pad on the door. She pressed her thumb to a scanner at the top of the machine then punched in a code, methodically switching between fingers, which I assume means that the buttons had scanners in them too.

Or, in other words, there was no chance of escaping here.

The door opened with a loud buzz and Kacy turned to me with a gleeful smile on her face.

“Oh don’t look so blue, kid! It’s actually very nice in these rooms!” She said. “I would know, I’ve spent a full year in one of them.”

Rooms. That’s what she called them? Defeated, I allowed Romano to throw me into the cell, where I collapsed in a heap.

“I’ll check on you tomorrow!” Kacy said as she closed the door. The loud buzz came again as the door locked, and that was that.

I was now their prisoner.

I didn’t move for at least an hour. I stayed curled up on the floor sobbing my eyes out, unable to move, unable to exhale without releasing a loud sob. My cries echoed off of the metal walls and the metal floor underneath me sent cold pulsing through my body. Eventually, I began to feel dizzy from crying and I forced myself to stop and assess the situation. I hauled myself to my feet and started wandering around the room.

The room was fairly small, an 8 foot by 8 foot square. A bed sat in the right corner nearest to the door. A large chest lay at the foot of it, but when I peeked inside, I could only find jumpsuits and gray boots, just like what I was already wearing. On the other side of the room stood a desk and a chair, the desk actually had a lamp and a cup full of pens and pencils on it, which surprised me, I wasn’t sure what this evil company would want to give their test subjects that would require a desk. Finally, in the corner furthest from the door, was a bookshelf completely stocked with books.

I wandered over to the bookshelf to see what sort of propaganda they were trying to fill my head with, but I was surprised when I saw that they were totally normal books. I could see  _ The Secret Garden  _ and  _ The Odyssey _ , as well as a ton of other classic books, but that wasn’t all that was inside. The complete  _ Harry Potter  _ series took up almost an entire shelf, and there was a bloody copy of  _ Eragon.  _ But, as I continued to scan the shelves, a familiar looking, black-bound book caught my eye. Gingerly, I tugged it from the shelf and it fell into my lap.

It was a lined journal, bound with black fabric, marked with the Future Tech logo.

_ My  _ journal.

The last puzzle piece fell into place. The package. It was this journal. My parents had been meaning to spring this idea on me for  _ months.  _ They  _ gave  _ me this journal with the full intention of shipping me off to become one of their  _ test subjects. _ April wanted to have the package for a psych eval. They’re using this journal to study my mental state. I… I cannot  _ believe  _ this.

But what I can’t believe any more is that, even though I know someone at Future Tech will read this, I’m still writing in it.

Why?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey, I just remembered that this is a thing I guess I was doing? Here you go, I finished this a WHILE ago!


End file.
